Provenance

Chapter Ten

"So, they're like…" Sam's hand twisted in the air, mouth pulling down to one side as he thought. "Married, now?"

Mikaela nodded wearily, her chin resting on the lip of the mug she held between her hands. They'd been going over this for half an hour now, sat at the wooden dining room table in the middle of the human's kitchen area. "Yeah, but in a really intense way. Ratchet said a spark bond was like trading bits of your soul, the most intimate bond two Bots can make. So there aren't any quickie divorces."

"Right." Sam sat back, expression fixed as he thought about that titbit of information. Every now and then the Autobots threw up a new detail that reminded him that they were, in fact, aliens. Finally his brows quirked and he met her gaze, smiling. "Huh. I guess they must have been pretty sure about it to go through with… that. How long do you think they've been, y'know, together? Or have they always been and I was just too dense to notice?"

She rubbed her forehead, lips pursing. "I don't know. I don't think it's been since we met them, anyway. Ironhide's pretty hard to read but I think we'd have noticed if they were in love."

"None of us did," a new voice added softly, quietly entering the kitchen and the conversation. Prowl's feet sounded out a subtle limp as he moved past the humans to the energon cube store, his hand ghosting over the standard fare before he reached up for a cube of High Grade instead. It had been a long night and his leg hurt. "Sorry to intrude on you both, but Ratchet insisted I walk around and the refectory was a reasonable distance."

"No problem, Prowl. It's good to see you up and about," Mikaela replied around her mug, her gaze drifting up his latest repairs before settling on his face. "We were just gossiping."

"It's started already," Prowl commented under his vents with a smile.

Sam snorted a laugh. "Yeah, you should have seen what Mikaela and me just walked in on. Optimus and Ironhide were totally-"

Prowl cut him off with a raised hand. "I, really don't need to know the details of their business, Samuel, though that's likely to become more difficult now that they're no longer being secretive about it."

Mikaela blinked, wondering if the usually stoic tactician was going to prove a valuable information source for the gossip vine. "How long had they been keeping it a secret?"

The mech shifted a little, taking a long drag of High Grade and absently rubbing his scorched thigh as the potent fluid soaked into his systems. It looked as if he was going to ignore the question, when he suddenly replied, "About four months, give or take, but they've been close for eons. It was Ironhide's protectiveness of Prime whilst he was carrying Tempest that moved their relationship into a different gear, and once again it's indirectly because of Tempest that they now appear to be bringing it out into the open."

"Yeah, I guess the big guy needs some moral support right about now, and, y'know, boyfriends and girlfriends are good for that," Sam replied with a warm smile to Mikaela, which was sincerely returned.

"Yes, Tempest's sudden absence after such an abrupt and significant upgrade has been causing some circuits around here to overheat." Finishing his cube, Prowl refilled it and returned to leaning against the wall beside the human-size countertops. "We're confident there's no need to be concerned, though. Tempest has a durable body and Starscream's protection."

"Speaking of the formerly-terrifying Screamer who comes up in my nightmares more than Megahead," Sam wound up loudly, tucking his hands behind his head. "Right before the attack on the Base, I caught him playing Mario Kart."

Mikaela's mug sunk a little from her chin. "Seriously?"

"Oh, he's getting quite good at that," Prowl replied with a chuckle, smiling at Sam's scandalized expression that someone else already knew about the Seeker's nocturnal activities. A half shrug. "We sometimes have a match between patrols."

The newfound knowledge that Prowl played Mario Kart with Starscream overtook the fact that Starscream played it at all on the weirdness scale. Sam rubbed his eyes. "I'm finding that so hard to picture, and I've seen half of it." Curiosity got the better of him. "Any idea why he plays Yoshi?"

Prowl rolled his shoulder in a slight shrug. "Manoeuvrability. Agility over brute force suits his competitive style." Looking down into his High Grade, he considered the shimmering liquid for a moment. "Starscream has a very active processor and is easily frustrated by boredom. He does a lot of things that not many of the Bots know about to keep himself entertained."

"Ironhide has his weapons, Starscream has Nintendo," Sam surmised lightly.

"Ratchet said that he was a scientist before the war," Mikaela offered, setting the mug down on the table and resting her jaw on her fists. "He can do a better job than most non-medics with repairs, and he's started to ask Wheeljack about his projects."

Sam groaned and covered his face, elbows resting on the table. "Just what we need around here: another mad scientist."

Prowl harrumphed around a sip of High Grade. "Starscream needs to find a place to fit in and some kind of purpose amongst the Autobots. He cannot remain in solitude, and he knows it. I for one am supportive of his renewed interest in the sciences." His mouth quirked. "Perhaps he'll be able to make some of Wheeljack's inventions less explosive."

"Here's hoping," Mikaela agreed wholeheartedly, raising her mug a little in a gesture of a toast.

A comfortable silence drew itself out as the trio finished their drinks and found themselves staring into the empty containers. Then, Sam unwittingly slammed his mug down with enough force to make the other two look to him. "So, just so I'm clear: Optimus and Ironhide are married and-or bonded, so Tempest's like Ironhide's adopted son and Starscream's his godfather?"

The mech rubbed a finger across his helm, frowning. "It's not quite-"

His finial chirped and he ran the digit to tap it. Optimus's voice sounded into the room tense and loaded. "Starscream has contacted us over a Decepticon channel. He and Tempest are going to one of Megatron's strongholds. Meet in the hanger and prepare to roll out."

When the transmission cut out, Prowl set the empty cube aside and bent his leg, wincing as the new parts rubbed. Finally he rested his weight fully onto it, straightening his body.

Mikaela slid from her chair. "You can't seriously be going, Prowl."

"Yeah, you just got back from getting un-mangled," Sam added with a vague gesture to the mech's blackened knee.

"I don't intend on joining in the inevitable fight," Prowl replied shortly as he made for the door in long strides. "But someone may need the extra voice of reason."

The Nemesis had been brought down by Soundwave eight months ago and was now to be found half buried in the remotest hundred square miles that America had had to offer. When the ship had appeared on NASA's screens the immediate response had been to attempt to destroy it, but the Autobots had warned that human munitions could barely damage a mech let alone a Cybertronian warship, so it had been allowed to land.

There was nothing by way of cover for the last twenty miles around the ship, so the Decepticons patrolled outside this border. It was along the shallow gorge of a dried river that Megatron elected to meet the incoming Seekers along this invisible line.

Skywarp was to Starscream's right in the diamond formation, and spoke through a private comm. channel. "How do you think this is going to play?"

"I honestly couldn't say." Starscream's weapons twitched as the gathered Decepticons came into visual range. "I can't get a read on what's going through his head, and no matter how smart and powerful he is, he's still only four months old."

The usually erratic Seeker considered that for a moment. "What do you want us to do, Sir?"

"Follow my lead. I've already contacted Prime through Thundercracker's radio for reinforcements in case the slag hits the fans."

"Great," came the drawled reply before Skywarp closed the channel, tipping with the other Seekers towards the ground to land.

Megatron stood a little ahead of Blackout and Barricade, Soundwave watching blankly from his side. Tempest touched down first, closing several feet of the distance between them whilst the others came to land behind him. After sleepless days of pursuit, Blackout couldn't resist slinking around to the front to regard the mech in close profile, faceplates shifting to hiss, "the prodigal son finally arrives."

Blackout was fast but Tempest was faster, using his broad reach to grasp the mechs draped rotors and twisting them violently about his frame, pinning his arms to his chassis. There was a flurry of clicks and whines as every weapon on site came to life, but the cannon warming inches from Blackout's face won. After all his anxieties about using the weapons, it had come easily. Tempest maintained his firm grip on the wrenched metal protrusions, trusting the sensor on the canon to watch his prisoner as his gaze turned to Megatron, expectant.

The Decepticon commander folded his arms as he took in the scene, ultimately laughing. It did nothing to ease the trigger tension. Finally Megatron gave a dismissive wave. "You've nothing to prove, mechling. My offspring could only be powerful, and hungry for even more power." He cocked his head, indifferent to Blackout's futile attempts to free himself as much as he was the defective Seekers. "Have you come to join us in your rightful place?"

"I've come to tell you to leave me alone. I have no 'rightful place,' only where I choose to be," Tempest bit back, adjusting his footing marginally to keep Blackout off balance. "And I choose to be with my Sire."

A scoff and Megatron moved to approach him and lay a hand on his shoulder, but a whining charge from the canon paused him. "You are too young to know the ways of this universe, Tempest. To understand that you must be strong and powerful to survive."

Starscream sensed what was going to happen a second before Tempest actually did it, taking a step forward to intervene as the mech fired his canon. Blackout jerked back but remained on his feet, struggling wildly now as the remains of his face sparked. Tempest's gaze didn't shift from Megatron's. "I'm old enough to know where I want to be, and where I don't. So give up."

Megatron snarled at that. "You wouldn't even be here, mechling, if it weren't for me. It was my spark that created you."

Tempest tipped his head back, dentals gritted. "And my Sire who made me."

"I was still the instigator to your conception. He didn't want you." A predatory smirk as he allowed the serrated words a moment to sink in. "Technically, you belong with me as a Decepticon."

Starscream rolled his optics and scuffed his foot in the dust. "Technically this whole thing was my idea."

The muttered comment did not go unnoticed. "Shut up Starscream."

Tempest hadn't noticed, his grip tightening on Blackout and world shrinking to the implication of those words. His reply was soft and tight. "You forced yourself onto my Sire?"

Starscream moved to stand just behind Tempest, ignoring the weapons tracking him. Likely Brawl was watching them from a distance with the new nitrogen shells, though with the rapidly stewing atmosphere here none of them were giving him much thought.

The grin remained though Megatron shook his head. "Nothing so repugnant. I seeded a sparkling and then left him to care for it until it was born. I came for you then," red optics snapped to Starscream's, "but that traitor kept me from you."

Tempest readjusted his grip on Blackout, gripping the wrecked rotors in one hand so that his other could sink into a crevice in his chassis at the pit of his throat. He wrapped his fingers around something important enough to make the damaged mech still, his narrowed gaze fixed on his creator. "And you keep coming after me now."

Megatron risked a step forwards. "Your rightful place is by my side. You're powerful, and could be moreso. Think of what we could achieve together."

Something like frustrated weariness crept into the young mech's voice. "I don't want power. I just want peace."

Whatever queer tenderness they had been approaching evaporated as if flash boiled. "You and your simpering Sire, who's more concerned with keeping the fleshling insects of this planet safe than his own men."

Lines tightening, Tempest stiffened at the remark and his armour flexed, creating a crumple zone between the plates and his parts. "I want peace for us, not for them. What are we even fighting for now?"

Megatron's optics glinted, teasing. "Control."

"Fine. Then I will seize it." Tempest returned his optics to what remained of Blackout's face, only hesitating to meet the bloody stare before firing his cannon in quick succession. Starscream lunged to put himself between him and Barricade, the remaining Seekers moving with weapons ready to his sides. Tempest seemed unperturbed, dropping the smoking body and turning to face Megatron fully. Almost soundlessly, his weapons shifted to settle on Soundway whom was still as he awaited his master's order. "Concede, Megatron, or I'll keep going."

The Decepticon wavered for a moment. "You wouldn't. There's too much of Prime in you."

"There's too much of you in me to not," Tempest spat back, shoulders curling ready for battle and weapons hot. He broke away from Starscream's grip on his shoulder as soon as it appeared, striding towards Megatron headless of the danger. "Who next? Who else wouldn't concede to peace once you're removed? Soundwave? Barricade? Or will you lay down your life to save your men?"

Megatron looked over Blackout's darkened body, still smoking. Though his battle-hardened CPU told him to just shoot the mech down, some deeper instinct stilled his targeting sensors. Clearly Tempest was not going to back down from this stance, refusing to side for power and more than happy to shoot anyone who forced him otherwise. Or a representative of them. This ruthless commitment to his ideals combined with Megatron's circuit-ingrained inability to shoot his own sparkling made him a very dangerous mech to be on the wrong side of. "What if I did agree to peace?"

Tempest tipped his head, critically regarding the slighter mech. "You won't change, not as you are. You need to be broken down and rebuilt. Reconditioned."

A silence filled with the wind hurling itself across the dead riverbed and rumbling engines, before Megatron's optics narrowed to slits. "I don't believe you."

"You have yourself to blame. You made me a fighter, bred me from your lust for power and conditioned to fight for my very survival." Tempest straightened, shoulders squaring. "I should thank you for it. It's what will allow me to survive."

"And now?"

Tempest's dark plates slid into a grim smile, resolved. "I think an example needs to be made. You wanted me to be a symbol of power? Fine. I'll start with you, here, now, for all your men to see."

Starscream moved as his pistons lurched, not heeding the fact that he had no weapons to speak of as he walked into this potential scrap. "Tempest, don't."

"Stay out of this, Starscream," Tempest shouted back, feet shifting wider as his weapons whirred, fingers sliding into scythe-like claws when Megatron finally started forwards with a snarl.

From behind, Optimus's unmistakable voice bellowed through the ravine. "Enough!"